


Anywhere by Madison

by sgamadison



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 11:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgamadison/pseuds/sgamadison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, he was just going to keep his mouth shut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anywhere by Madison

Anywhere by [Madison](viewuser.php?uid=1593) [NC-17]

 

 

**Summary:** This time, he was just going to keep his mouth shut.

 

**Categories:** [Slash Pairings](browse.php?type=categories&id=3) &gt; [McKay/Sheppard](browse.php?type=categories&id=11)

**Characters:** [John Sheppard](browse.php?type=characters&charid=7), [Rodney McKay](browse.php?type=characters&charid=12)

**Genres:** [Angst](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=3), [Challenge](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=4), [Character Study](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=5), [Drabble](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=6), [Drama](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=7), [Established Relationship](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=9), [Vignette](browse.php?type=class&type_id=1&classid=21)

**Warnings:** [Adult themes](browse.php?type=class&type_id=2&classid=23)

**Chapters:** 1 [[Table of Contents](viewstory.php?sid=14321&index=1)]

**Series:** None

 

 

Word count: 1593; Completed: Yes

 

 

 

 

 

 

> **Story Notes:**
> 
>  
> 
> A short piece written for McSheplets, prompt "Earth" and then totally forgotten until I was cleaning up the file box.

 

* * *

>   
> John appeared in his doorway without warning, his silent approach startling Rodney into a gasp when he looked up. He started to berate the Colonel for taking years off his life, (_what did he think he was, a Wraith?_) but something in John's expression stopped him.
> 
>  
> 
> John stood in the doorway, a grim look on his face, and then his hand crept up to the back of his neck and he rubbed it with a wince. "I need to get out of here," he said.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney could think of half a dozen reasons why he should protest, and at least four suitably snarky responses to suggest that it didn't exactly sound as though the Colonel was extending an invitation and by all means, run off and play on Earth for a while, because _some_ people had work to do.
> 
>  
> 
> But the memory of why John was here, what the IOA could do to him, was reason enough for Rodney to simply shut down his laptop and get to his feet. After all, despite all excuses to the contrary, this _was_ why he had come.
> 
>  
> 
> "Where are we going?" Rodney finally asked when they reached topside, the cool night breeze ruffling John's forelock and sending goose bumps down Rodney's bare arms as they walked across the parking lot.
> 
>  
> 
> "Anywhere," John said shortly.
> 
>  
> 
> They stopped in front of a gleaming black Mustang convertible with the top down, the halogen lighting casting the car in a weird, almost purple light. Rodney could think of half a dozen reasons why riding in a convertible, an _old_ convertible, one that probably didn't have _airbags_, was a Very Bad Idea, but instead he said, "Where'd you get that?"
> 
>  
> 
> "Called the rental company. Had it delivered," John said in a clipped way entirely unlike him.
> 
>  
> 
> As they seated themselves in the car, John reached over behind the seat and pulled out Rodney's leather jacket, handing it to him as they buckled in. Rodney accepted it gratefully, sliding the buttery-soft leather coat over his arms with a sigh, wondering when John had found the time to retrieve it from his quarters in the SGC. The engine started with a muted rumble and they headed sedately through the checkpoint out onto the main road, where John opened up the throttle. The car leapt down the tarmac with a throaty roar like a tiger released from long captivity and ate up the road. John took the turns faster than Rodney would have liked; the sound of the engine and the whistling of the wind around them precluding conversation. Rodney wanted to tell him to slow down, to reach out and touch his arm and ground him again but there was something wildly exhilarating in the cold wind and the vibrating noise and the stars and the moon overhead. He let himself lean back on the seat instead, one arm casually stretching out towards John without touching him.
> 
>  
> 
> After what seemed like hours, they pulled into a little hole-in-the-wall diner, literally an Airstream trailer that had been converted into a 24 hour breakfast bar. They sat in silence, John slowly nursing a cup of coffee while Rodney tucked into waffles and syrup, having forgotten to eat dinner earlier in the evening. When they were done, John threw down a twenty on the counter and left without waiting for change. Rodney hurried to follow him into the night, standing in the bright rectangle of light spilling out of the open doorway, his eyes trying to adjust to the blackness all around. Trying to find John.
> 
>  
> 
> His boots crunched on the graveled drive as he approached the car. The headlights pierced the night like two glowing eyes; small moths fluttering haphazardly in their beams. There was no one in the car. Rodney paused, looking around, hunching down into his jacket and noting the curl of vapor rising with each breath. He opened his mouth, about to call out John's name, when suddenly he was spun around and forced backwards until he bumped up against the grill of the engine. He was being pushed back so hard he was forced to place a hand palm down on the hood of the car and he tensed, ready for a fight, when John's mouth closed brutally on his own.
> 
>  
> 
> There was a moment of shock and then Rodney realized he could _do_ this. He allowed himself to be pushed back until he could hitch himself up on the hood of the car, letting his legs fall open so that John could move in between them. When John moved forward, one hand possessively on Rodney's thigh, squeezing his flesh and the other snaking its way under the hem of his shirt to lie hot and heavy on the small of his back, Rodney hooked his legs around the back of John's knees and pulled him forward until they met in nearly full body contact. John's kisses were almost savage. Rodney could feel the anger and the inherent _danger_ present in the man and knew somehow that it was not directed at him.
> 
>  
> 
> When John lifted his head, Rodney could see by the light of the thin, silver moon that John's lips were swollen. His eyes, the eyes that Rodney loved so much, were dark with shadows.
> 
>  
> 
> "Let's get out of here." John's voice was dark with shadows too.
> 
>  
> 
> When they finally reached a little side-of-the-road motel, John switched off the ignition and sat silently for a moment, not moving.
> 
>  
> 
> "We have to be back by morning," Rodney reminded gently.
> 
>  
> 
> "We will," John said tersely. He got out and attended to the business of securing a room, driving the car around to the back of the building when he returned with a key. He tossed the key to Rodney, leaving him to open the door and turn on the lights while he opened the trunk of the car and removed a duffel bag. He followed Rodney into the room, dropping the bag and suddenly seeming at a loss as to what to do next.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney moved cautiously towards him, placing a hand on the back of his neck when he didn't move away and carefully drawing him into the circle of Rodney's arms. John went willingly, if somewhat stiffly, moving forward until he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder. Rodney merely held him this way for a long moment, screaming at his internal voice to _keep silent_ the whole time, his personal censors working overtime not to fuck things up. When John finally pulled back with a little sigh, Rodney began undressing him with that same deliberate care, as though he were an unstable Ancient artifact that might explode with rough handling.
> 
>  
> 
> John allowed Rodney to pull his shirt off over his head, bracing one hand on Rodney's shoulder as he knelt before John and removed his boots, shifting his weight from foot to foot as Rodney removed them and then Rodney unbuckled his pants, stripping those down and off as well. The silence between them was weird and yet somehow _right_ at the same time. John's cock was only half hard when Rodney released it from his pants, and Rodney leaned into John, stroking his back and his cock at the same time. John gave a little shudder at the touch and allowed himself to be pushed down onto the bed. Rodney crawled up after him, flipping him over and beginning to massage the muscles along his back, firm, rhythmic strokes causing John to groan and clutch at the bedspread. As Rodney continued to work however, John's hands began to relax and his breathing slowed and quieted. Rodney worked steadily down John's back, along the muscles of his thighs and calves, down out to his feet, to his very toes. John didn't move.
> 
>  
> 
> Rodney stripped quietly to his t-shirt and boxers, finding a spare blanket and covering the two of them as they slept.
> 
>  
> 
> In the morning, it was John coming in with a paper tray and two coffee cups that woke him. Speaking only when absolutely necessary, Rodney having learned long ago that to do so before being fully caffeinated was the best way of ending any relationship he might have, Rodney staggered back out to the car, eyeing the open cab with decided disfavor. What was exciting and dare he say even romantic the night before was definitely unappealing in the cold gray light of dawn. John seemed to read his mood and obligingly put the top up without being asked.
> 
>  
> 
> On the way back to the base, Rodney was in danger of nodding off. Coming to with a start during a particularly fast turn, he suddenly found himself speaking.
> 
>  
> 
> "Hey," he said, turning to face John. "Are we going to be alright?"
> 
>  
> 
> John took his eyes off the road to shoot him a sharp look, the hazel eyes marred by dark circles and bags that made him look older than his forty some odd years. John suddenly smiled, and as though he'd been reverse-fed upon by a Wraith, seemed years younger in the blink of an eye. He reached out and took Rodney's hand, holding it down on the seat of the car, giving it a little squeeze. Rodney looked down at their joined hands and then up at John in astonishment, but John was looking back at the road again.
> 
>  
> 
> "Yeah," he said. "We're gonna be just fine."
> 
>  
> 
> ~fin~
> 
>  
> 
> &lt;


End file.
